


To Forgive and Forget

by Golden506



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22619611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden506/pseuds/Golden506
Summary: Eridan killed them. He looked them in the eyes and shot them dead with his white science. He might never forgive himself, but perhaps someone else can.
Relationships: Eridan Ampora/Roxy Lalonde
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	To Forgive and Forget

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not especially happy with this, but it's... passable, and I'd like to move onto a different project now. Enjoy.  
> CW: alcohol.

Eridan sits at table in the corner of the room, tracing a smear of spilled drink with his finger moodily. The bar is far from packed, with only a few patrons scattered here and there across it. A bored looking bartender idles behind the bar, occasionally wiping down the surface uselessly or inspecting one of the many bottles neatly lined up behind him. Eridan takes another sip of the lukewarm human soporific before him, coughing slightly as it goes down. The stuff differs from troll drinks but, he reflects, very much still gets the job done. He used to scoff at these more traditional human establishments, but the refined multiculturalist he believes himself to be surely would enjoy them anyway.

A group of people come in, and Eridan observes disinterestedly as they order drinks and sit at the bar, talking loudly and happily in contrast to Eridan hiding away at his table. He takes a moment to glower at them for the unforgivable crime of being happy when he isn’t. One of them seems vaguely familiar to him, but he’s too far gone to place them. Some human or another, unimportant to him. He finishes his drink and contemplates getting another, soon deciding against it in favor of continuing to wallow, or as he tells himself, reflect on important military strategy and his eventual coup of Earth C.

One of the humans at the bar, casually glancing around the room, lets their gaze linger on him longer than normal. It’s the familiar one he noted earlier. Pulling himself together for a moment to try and think, he is in fact pretty sure he’s maybe kind of seen this person before. Somewhere. Seeming to come to a decision, they hop off their stool and walk over. 

“Hey Eridan!” they say with a grin. With far more effort than should probably be necessary, he hauls himself upright and squints at the human’s face. “Wait, I got this.” Their smile falters as he searches his memory for a few seconds, before giving up with a shrug. “Who the hell are you again?” 

They laugh awkwardly. “It’s Roxy, we’ve never really talked before I guess but I’ve seen you around. Heard stories ‘n stuff.” they explain. “Right, right, you’re the tyrian one aren’t you?” They open their mouth to speak but Eridan cuts them off with a wave of his hand. “Nah, don’t answer that, you wouldn’t understand what it means anyway. Humans.” he snorts. 

Eridan confidently lifts the empty glass halfway to his lips before realizing his mistake and setting it down with a sigh. Roxy glances at it and the alcohol on the table, and frowns slightly. “How much have you had to drink?” they ask, wish a sort of forced casualty. He thinks for a moment, then shrugs. “A… respectable amount a’ your human fuckin’ soporifics, what’s it to you anyway? I can drink however much I feel like drinkin’ thank you very much.”

“Nothing really, I just worry.” says Roxy. A veritable lightbulb appears over Eridan’s head at the mention of the word “worry.” Letting out a long-suffering sigh, he slides down in his seat and crosses his arms. “Worry? Don’t even fuckin’ act like you care about me, human. I’ve learned through plenty a’ trials and tribulations that I don’t mean SHIT to anyone.” He stares off into the distance, entirely ruining the effect by looking back furtively at Roxy every few seconds.

Taking in the raw desperation of it, Roxy glances at their friends still talking and laughing at the bar and back at Eridan, somewhat conflicted. They come to a decision and start to turn away. “Anyway, I just wanted to say hi so-”

“Wait!” bursts out Eridan, scrambling back up. “You can’t leave, you gotta - well wait, no, you can do what you want. Fuck. Just go, I screwed this up.” moans Eridan, pinching the bridge of his nose. Hesitantly Roxy walks back toward the table. “You know what, I’ll leave, I don’t gotta stand for this shit.” he says suddenly bitter, lurching unsteadily to his feet. 

“Woah!” Roxy catches his arm as he stumbles by, looking him over with a raised eyebrow. “You’re leaving? How you gonna get home?” they ask. “Walk or something.” mumbles Eridan. “Dude, it’s below freezing out there.” they respond. “Are you tryin’ to say something about my TEMPERATURE, human?”

“Look, I dunno jack shit about your troll blood color thing, and to be honest I don’t care. Do you wanna ride home or not?” Eridan hesitates. 

“You’re offering?” 

“Yep.”

“Well it’s only fitting that I-”

“Nope. I get enough egotistical shit from Dirk, thanks.”

“Well fine. Fuckin… let’s just go.”

Roxy walks over to their friends and lets them know they’ll be back soon as Eridan hovers nearby. They head out into the cold, and Eridan follows. They hurry over to their car and fish out their keys, shivering as they get in and motion for Eridan to do the same.

“Brrrr. Where to?” they ask. Eridan gives them his address, they put it into their phone, and they start driving. Eridan looks out the window disinterestedly, set in an odd, intended to be lazily regal pose that Roxy struggles not to laugh at once or twice. They talk quietly for the first couple of minutes, but soon the car is silent.

They pull up at Eridan’s massive mansion. “Can’t say I’m surprised.” says Roxy, looking over the structure. “Real cultured, huh?” says Eridan almost proudly. Roxy looks at them amusedly. “‘s one way to describe it.” He moves to exit the car, but Roxy stops him. “Hey. Lemme see your phone real quick.” He hands it over, and after typing for a few seconds Roxy hands it back with a new contact simply labeled rox (Eridan later noting that the colored text should not have been possible.) “There. If you ever need me to bail you out or whatevs just call me. I mean, try and be responsible ‘n shit but if you have to you have to, I’d rather help you than find you frozen in a ditch or something. Kay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” mutters Eridan as he gets out, Roxy laughing lightly. They watch as he trudges through the snow up to his door, ignoring the neatly shoveled path in favor of a more direct route, and goes in. Satisfied, they pull out of his driveway and resolve to check with him the day after.

Inside the house, Eridan collapses on a couch and runs a hand across his face tiredly. He knows he should probably change into pajamas and get into sopor at the very least, but getting up off the couch is far too monumental a task for him now. Instead, he lays down and sinks into the plush cushion with a sigh. His last thought before he drifts off is that maybe this Roxy isn’t all that bad.

***

Eridan wakes up.

It’s an unfortunate phenomenon, waking up, most especially when you were drunk off your ass the night before. Trying and failing to remember who or what the fuck he is, Eridan slowly begins to push himself upright, before deciding that doing so was in fact an awful plan and flopping back down pathetically.

He’s nauseous, his head is killing him, he desperately needs to use the bathroom, and he feels drier than he’s ever been in his life. Somewhere between the throbs of pain and various egotistical complexes in his head arises the goal of acquiring some ibuprofen and getting to water. 

Even so, it’s a few minutes before he’s able to work up the raw strength needed to sit up and orient himself. (He congratulates himself profusely for the profound dedication shown in doing so.) He’s in his living room, one of them at least, where he crashed the night before. The room is mostly grey and of course violet, with a few brighter colors splashed sparsely throughout it. 

He squints at the harsh morning light shining through the window set high in the wall, of course aligned perfectly to beam directly into his face. There’s a slight whirring as a robotic servant passes nearby, dutifully cleaning. It’s the only noise to fill the massive space of Eridan’s house.

Rubbing his eyes and slowly standing up, he tries to remember what happened before. He’d gone to one of the human bars, no surprise considering the state he’s in, and then… he’d talked to someone. He remembers the name Roxy. He racks his memory for a little longer, but he’s getting nothing else. With a sigh, he walks over to his restroom and fishes some pills out of the bottle in the medicine cabinet. He gags slightly as he takes them without water, but recovers quickly. Padding through the house, he soon reaches the stairs leading to the equally massive and impressive underwater component of his mansion. 

Immediately after submerging himself, he begins to feel more troll. Water filters through his gills, bringing oxygen to his struggling respiratory system, and suffuses his pores. He twirls slightly, reveling in the feeling of being marginally less miserable than he was five minutes ago. He uses the restroom and changes into his finest cape and equally regal outfit, a necessary provision for the task he’s about to undertake: sitting alone in his library on his palmhusk and hoping for death.

Perhaps not literally that, but he does rather grouchily sit down in his library full of tomes on military theory and history, among other things, and check his palmhusk. He has a single message, one more than usual.

**rox : hru?**

He stares at it, struggling to remember last night. It’s clearly Roxy, but there’s something wrong. It’s almost like they’re concerned for his wellbeing. This, of course, simply does not compute. What even happened last night? They… drove him home? Why would they bother?

**eridan: whats it to you**

They respond almost instantly.

 **rox : just makin sure you didnt die in your sleep**  
**rox : also check pchum**

Frowning, he does as instructed. He accepts a chum request from the handle tipsyGnostalgic and is soon messaged by it.

TG: there  
TG: much better  
TG: sooooo  
TG: hru?  
CA: wwell i feel like shit  
TG: i mean  
TG: are you surprised by that  
CA: no  
CA: im just sayin considerin YOU asked and all  
TG: aight fair enough  
CA: anyway  
CA: all alone hungover as SHIT in this massive house  
CA: wwith nobody else to comfort me in my stupor  
CA: youre the only one darin to evven care  
TG: sorry and youre welcome? i think?  


Eridan frowns before continuing. Could he be playing it up a bit too much? No, he’d recognize if he was.

CA: nobody wwill evver lovve me  
TG: oh my god  
CA: wwhat  
TG: do u like  
TG: ever stop lamenting? or is it just a constant stream  
TG: forever n evah ebidan will lament  
CA: hey  
CA: if youre just gonna disrespect me like this then maybe ill take my leavve  
CA: wwhat do you think about THAT  
TG: aww no  
TG: sorry  
TG: but fr tho what r u even doing  
TG: is this an ironic thing or liek...   
CA: no  
CA: these are my important issues that are NOT being taken seriously  
CA: also  
CA: wwhat the fuck even happened last night  
TG: u said u were gonna walk home drunk in the middle of the night and like  
TG: nah  
TG: not gonna let ppl do that if i can help  
TG: so i drove you home rq and then went back  
CA: wwhy  
TG: ?  
CA: wwhy did you bother to help me of all people  
TG: its almost like im concerned 4 your wellbeing  
TG: cause youre yknow  
TG: a person  
CA: oh so it didnt mean anything  
TG: uh  
TG: did it?  
CA: i dunno did it  
TG: wat  
CA: wwhat  
TG: wtf is happening  
CA: art  
TG: r we writing beuatiful poetry  
CA: clearly yes  
TG: :3  
CA: as a connoisseur of the fine arts i am vvery qualified to say that this conversation wwill be immortalized in countless anthologies  
TG: hell yea  
TG: generations will look @ our glory   
TG: n they will weep with joy   
TG: probs confusion 2  
TG: they cant understand our majestey  
CA: a course not  
CA: wwere bein generous lettin them evven gaze upon our creation  
CA: cant expect their like to comprehend it  
TG: wait r we doing the blood color thing again  
CA: no  
CA: maybe  
TG: so yes  
TG: smh ebididsnan i will have no part in ur troll racism  
CA: is that evven meant to approximate my name  
TG: r u saying that isnt your name  
TG: i hereby officially n illustriously dub thee ebsindanam  
CA: that doesnt wwork  
CA: you cant just go ebsindanam aperoaria or something stupid like that there are RULES to it  
TG: imma rebel  
CA: i can see that  
TG: n e ways  
TG: i gotta go soon so  
TG: ttyl  


Eridan sets down his phone and stretches. There was definitely something there, he thinks. Something almost pale. Maybe, just maybe, things will start looking up for him. After all, there’s no way they’ll be able to resist his utter desperation. It’s what he does best.

***

The two talk often, in between Eridan spending his days puttering aimlessly about his hive, rereading his books and scrolling through his phone. More often than not their conversations are of no inherent importance, but still Eridan feels closer to them. He goes out and drinks occasionally, but he never has need to call them.

Convinced of their destiny together as only the palest of diamonds, Eridan wonders passively how he should make his move. He knows of course that there’s no possible way they would ever even consider rejecting him, charming and pitiable as he convinced himself he is, but there’s a way to go about these things - a proper procedure, yes.

One day, a couple weeks after they meet, Eridan awakes(again hungover) to six messages from Roxy.

TG: hey  
TG: hey  
TG: hello  
TG: hi  
TG: respond smh my head  
TG: fine then  
CA: wwhat do you wwant  
TG: omg is that the real eridan ampora  
CA: yes  
CA: wwhat do you wwant  
TG: wow some1 is feeling rude  
TG: or should i say wwoww :3  
CA: oh  
CA: im truly flattered but  
CA: wwhat do you want  
TG: ok u know janey right?  
CA: no  
TG: well shes v sweet and u should talk to her more  
TG: or like at all ig  
TG: but she does a thanksgiving thingy  
TG: in liek a few days  
TG: lil get together n all that  
TG: with a fuck ton of delish cake n stuff  
TG: janey does not fuck around with turkey it is cake exclusively  
CA: i knoww about that particular gatherin  
CA: not that anyones ever cared to actually fuckin invite me  
TG: ur invited  
TG: ooh or do u want a fancy letter w “pls rsvp” on it in gold print or smth  
CA: wwell itd certainly be nice for someone to have SOME appreciation for a real invitation   
TG: brb lemme go get one a strider to make a shitty ironic one  
CA: oh gog no  
TG: lmao  
CA: ivve been exposed to plenty of your irony shit already thanks  
TG: my irony shit?  
TG: nah this is strider irony shit  
TG: aged in puppets shitty swords n deeply repressed emotions B)  
CA: wwhats the difference  
TG: r u really asking bout strider irony vs lalonde snark  
TG: could it be that ur not actually the getnleman w/ a most refined n artistic palate youve led me to believe???  
CA: wwhat no  
CA: a course i understand the difference what do you take me for  
CA: some kinda fuckin commoner that doesnt know shit about the fine arts  
CA: please  
CA: i was just makin sure YOU knew the difference  
TG: lol ok ebidnan  
TG: but fr are you gonna go?  
CA: who else is goin  
TG: uh idk exactly but a lotta people?  
TG: plenty you know if thats what ur worried abt  
CA: see  
CA: i dont really wwanna   
CA: look im probably not gonna go  
TG: u should!!!  
CA: no  
CA: i shouldnt  
TG: why not?  
CA: people i know dont tend to exactly be a fan of me ok  
CA: better if i just dont go  
TG: this about what happened on the meteor?  
CA: yes  
CA: evverythins about what happened on the fuckin meteor  
CA: howd you evven know anywway  
TG: grapevine ig  
TG: but  
TG: do u really not talk to any of the alternians?   
TG: at all?  
CA: no  
TG: you should at least try 2  
TG: n you can always leave if you feel like it  
TG: cmon itll be fun  
CA: i dont wwant to  
TG: pwease  
CA: wwhy do you care anywway  
TG: cause i wanna talk 2 you irl   
TG: + theres no point hiding urself away like you do  
CA:   
TG: ?  
CA: ill go  
TG: alrighty  


Eridan sets down his phone. He can hardly believe they would openly admit to wanting to talk to him like that, his experience with others very much differing. And the pale sentiment expressed directly afterwards, tenuous as it might be(especially from a human, he thinks) is undeniable.

The time until the party passes quickly, Eridan growing ever more nervous as it does. He types out and deletes a message three times to Roxy saying he’s changed his mind, until he refuses outright to give up. Still, he doubts himself. Maybe he shouldn’t go. What right does he have to show his traitorous face, after what he did? What right does he have to expect anything but harsh words and turned backs?

His concerns are alleviated marginally by the knowledge Roxy will be present, in addition to their own words, but by the time he stands upon Jane’s front porch he can hardly keep his breathing under control. After a moment to steel himself, he knocks on the door. It soon opens to a face he hasn’t seen for a while.

“Eridan?” says Karkat incredulously. ”Where in the bulge worshipping fuck have you been? You haven’t shown your face in fucking perigees! Did it ever cross your panworm addled mind that we might be concerned for you fucking wellbeing? Jegus, could you at least have answered ONE of my goddamn messages? Would that have been so much to ask? Fuck.”

“I just-” begins Eridan, but he cuts off almost immediately. “I don’t fuckin know. I’m sorry, okay?” Karkat starts to respond, before a human Eridan hasn’t seen before walks over. “Dude, if you keep yelling at literally everyone who comes in you’re gonna scare people off.” He gestures at you. “Come on in, there’s drinks and shit in the living room.” 

Their duty as greeters performed, the human puts his arm around Karkat(Eridan guesses it must be the Dave he’s heard so much about if he’s doing that) and the two walk off, Karkat with a grumbled remark over his shoulder. Eridan lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and proceeds in.

Roxy intercepts him soon after he enters, bounding up to him with a grin. “Hi Eridan!” Eridan, after a pause extended a second too long, responds halfheartedly. “Hey.” Roxy rolls their eyes and grabs hold of his arm, pulling him along to another room. “You’re gonna be fine dude, come on.”

All things considered it’s a fairly small event, Eridan doubts there’s more than 15 people total but he’s terrified nonetheless. Most of the humans except Roxy don’t know him. The trolls all do, most of which either ignore him or greet him awkwardly and then, their duty performed, also ignore him. Kanaya takes one look at him before pointedly flashing her chainsaw lipstick and leaving the room. Roxy pulls him aside when they see.

“You gonna be alright?”

“Not like I expect anything else from her. I’m a piece of shit anyway, what’s it-”

“Nope, not doing that. Just try not to think about it, okay?”

Karkat at least makes an effort to reconnect with him, as does Terezi.(Her brand of reconnecting involves significantly more licking than you would Eridan would have preferred, but it’s not like he expected anything else.) They talk about their lives on Earth C, exchange petty quadrant gossip and insult each other like the old days. They steer clear of the meteor, though, for which Eridan is grateful.

He talks with Roxy and their matesprit Callie a lot as well, and it’s a far cry from their cold, uncertain original encounter. Nervous as he initially was, he starts to relax after talking and laughing with them and his other friends that bother to speak with him for a while. It’s nice, he thinks. Maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t have to be the pariah he’s forced himself to become.

He hears the door open as someone else comes in, but pays little attention to it, preferring to listen intently to Callie enthusing about their latest cosplay. He hears a quiet “oh” a few seconds later, in a hauntingly familiar voice. Eridan, suddenly panicking, turns around to see Feferi standing at the entrance to the room. She raises a hand weakly in greeting, but he’s already hurrying out of the room. All the nervousness of earlier crashes down at him at once, he can’t face her, he can’t, he just fucking can’t, he’s never going to be able to look at her again without-

“Eridan!” 

Roxy followed him out of the room. He looks around, there’s nobody in the hallway so he darts out there. He doesn’t know where he’s going other than away from her. He hasn’t even considered talking to her again. To see her like this, so suddenly, is laughably beyond his current capabilities.

He stops and whirls around to face Roxy, who raises their hands. “Hey, calm down okay? It’s gonna be okay, just don’t run off like that.” they say gently. “You don’t fuckin’ get it, Rox, I can’t DEAL with this shit, with what I did.” Eridan responds, breathing heavily. Roxy takes a step forward. “You don’t gotta talk to her or anything if you don’t wanna, that’s fine, but you need to calm down.” 

Eridan becomes aware that he wants them to hold him more than anything he’s wanted in his life. It’s only through the inexorable force of his belief that he deserves nothing less than the opposite that he avoids throwing himself at them. He crosses his arms and steps back. “I can’t fuckin’ face her, not ever, I don’t deserve to breath the same fuckin’ air as her.”

He’s moving again. He can’t stay here, he has to keep going. Anywhere. Roxy’s in his way, he tries to push past them but their grab him and they’re reaching out to him and then, in an instant, there is nothing but calm. They jerk their hand away from his face. “Shit, I’m sorry, I know that’s like a whole thing with trolls I thought-”

Eridan makes a choked noise as the dam breaks, and before he knows what to make of it Roxy is holding him close, hesitantly papping his cheek and whispering softly. “Shhh, come here, you’re gonna be fine, I’m here for you.”

They could have stayed like that for a second or an hour for all Eridan can tell, but at some point he speaks. “Why are you even doing this?” They say nothing at first, continuing only to calm him and appearing to contemplate the question themself. “Because you needed me to.” Roxy responds, eventually. “I know this is like, a pale thing and to be honest I don’t fully know what that even entails but… I wanna help you. However I can.”

Eridan had always planned to unleash a monologue of epic proportions in a moment such as this. More often than he’d like to admit he had gone over in his head what he’d say, sorting heartbreaking lamentations and declarations of pity. Now, however, it all escapes him. He has nothing to say, other than to nestle his head on Roxy’s shoulder.

Eventually, Roxy pulls away gently. “Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah…”

The two make their way to the exit. Eridan can practically feel Feferi’s eyes burning into him as he passes the doorway to the living room, but he remains focused on Roxy and keeps walking. He opens the door shakily and steps out into the cold. Roxy glances at him. “Are you gonna be alright?” they ask. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.” He hesitates. “Thanks.” They smile at him as they step back inside. “No problem. I’ll text you later, okay?” He nods in response, and she closes the door. 

Turning with a sigh, Eridan goes home.

***

Their moirallegiance is consecrated over pesterchum later that night. It’s a small thing - a few lines of text and four angle brackets - but it leaves Eridan with a warm glow in his chest for days after. Their conversations stay largely the same, only marginally more open, which leaves Eridan somewhat dissatisfied. He expected something more dramatic. One day, though, he finds himself wallowing in self flagellation even more than usual. He’d typically respond by locking himself away in his respiteblock or drinking away his sorrows, but another option occurs to him.

CA: fuckin  
CA: ugh  
TG: are u okay?  
CA: i dunno maybe  
CA: sorta  
CA: not really  
TG: if you wanna come over or smth im good with that  
CA: its not THAT big a deal  
TG: if you feel shitty 4 whatever reason it is a big deal  
TG: even if its not world ending it still matters  
TG: so offer still stands ig  
CA: i dont deserve any a this  
CA: why do you even put up with me  
TG: lmao ebidan i already said you could come over  
TG: you dont have to cry out your sorrows to the world like a dramatic n tragic hero  
CA:  
CA: ok fine  


“All I ever wanted is to redeem myself, rise from the ashes a’ my own past or some shit, but how am I supposed to do that when they treat me like this? I’m fuckin’ sorry! I was stupid and angry and I fucked up and I deserved what I got for it, but why can’t they just forget it now? I’ve been on my best fuckin’ behavior since then and for what? They just keep treatin’ me like DIRT.” seethes Eridan, pacing back and forth neurotically across Roxy’s living room. “Everyone was fine in the end! Kan and Sol and…” 

The life seems to drain from him all at once, and he sits down on the plush, unforgivably pink sofa next to Roxy, as they regards him carefully. “What the fuck am I even doin’ anymore?” sighs Eridan, absentmindedly running his hand through his hair, then hurriedly fixing it. With a smirk Roxy ruffles it, provoking a glare from Eridan that he is, as usual when directed at them, unable to put any real malice into.

Leaning back, he returns to his monologue. “Nah, a’ course they wouldn’t just forget it. Fuck knows I can’t. Not after what I did. I can’t believe myself, I’m the worst troll on the planet. To just KILL her like that in COLD BLOOD for no glubbin’ reason.” he growls from his tense, straight backed position on the couch. 

“You’re not the worst, Eridan.” says Roxy quietly, reaching out to pull him back against them. He resists halfheartedly for a moment, before allowing himself to fall back, still practically vibrating with tension. They curl their hand gently around his neck, careful to avoid his gills, and lets the back of their thumb drift across his cheek. He relaxes marginally at the touch.

“I wasn’t there when it happened, I dunno the exact situation. And not gonna lie it does feel kinda weird to hear the stories ‘n stuff.” says Roxy, continuing to stroke him gently. “You always talk about redemption or how unfair it is… but I think you just wish it had never happened. Yeah?” His gills flatten back for a moment. “Guess you could say that.” answers Eridan after a pause.

“Everyone fucks up sometimes and it feels shitty to know you did but this,” they say, gesturing, “doesn’t help. You’re sorry about what you did and you wanna try and make things up, that counts for somethin’ no matter how bad things are. You gotta just do what you can in the moment to be a better person, y’know?”

They pause, as Eridan looks down distantly at his hands folded in his lap. They pull him closer and pap him, and his set shoulders fall. He rests his head on Roxy’s shoulder as they wrap their arms around him and buries their face in his hair. They stay this way quiet and contented in their warmth, safety, and comfort.

After a long moment Eridan speaks. “It’s hopeless. To the surprise of absolutely fuckin’ nobody, it’s hopeless. It’s always gonna be there, people are always gonna look at me and see a fuckin’ murderer. And I deserve it too, considerin’ that I’ve been nothin’ but a worthless fuckin’ burden on everyone around me. I don’t even-”

“Are you gonna do it again?” Roxy interrupts suddenly.

Eridan shifts positions to look at them indignantly. “What kinda question is that? No, I’m not gonna blast a fuckin’ hole in my - whatever she even is, was - again!” Eridan says. “And Kan too.” he adds hastily.

“Right. You don’t gotta define yourself by your past. There’s no law that says Eridan is always the worst forever or something, it’s not like that. It’s your choices ‘n actions that make you you, not your past. People are still gonna judge you for it, but all you can do is show that you’re not the same person you were, prove ‘em wrong.” explains Roxy, settling back against him.

“What if I am the same person?” Eridan asks quietly. “I… try to do better, that if nothin’ else, but I’m just the same bastard that killed his friends. I’m fuckin petty enough to do it again, really. I don’t wanna, I sure as hell don’t intend to, but what’s INTENT ever done for anyone?”

“Intent matters.” states Roxy firmly. “It doesn’t like… erase what you did or anything but thought counts. It sounds cliche I guess, ‘it’s the thought that counts,’ but our ideas and wishes ‘n all that are how we decide to do anything! It’s important.”

“Yeah well all that’s fine and fuckin’ dandy but I still don’t know who I am or where the fuck I’m goin’.” says Eridan.

“I don’t think anyone really does. I mean maybe if you’re a wise ‘n ancient wizard with the 10 foot beard and everything you can be like ‘aight fam I think I know what the fuck’s going on’ but that’s not a standard you should hold yourself to. We’re all just… figuring shit out and that’s okay.” speculates Roxy. “I’m not gonna lie, you’ve got flaws, but so do I. So does everyone, I bet Mr. Wisebeard’s hiding a steamy affair with Gerald the high councilor or whatever the fuck from his loving waifu. Or something. I dunno, point is that even if you’re not perfect… you’re a good person. I really do believe that. ‘s why I’m here, gotta bring out the golden inner Eridan. You’re not hopeless or anything, I know you like to go on about it but fuck that. I believe in you ‘n I wanna help you however I can.”

He’s quiet for a moment, contemplating the words. Slowly, he tilts his head back to lean against Roxy and closes his eyes.

“Pale for you.”

“Love you too, Ebidan.”

He stays like that, content, for a few minutes as Roxy holds him. Eventually, Roxy elbows him gently. “C’mon, move over.” He starts, and speaks hollowly “Yeah, didn’t mean to overstay my welcome, that’s fine I’ll just leave-” Roxy cuts him off. “Haha, that’s funny and all but you’re not leaving.” They toss a few pillows off the side of the couch, and tug a somewhat bemused Eridan down until they’re laying together on the couch. “Mmmm. Nah, I don’t think we’re going anywhere.”

“That works too.” manages Eridan.


End file.
